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(This is my first novel, I began it back in 2001 but did not finish it until 2011 so please forgive me if some of the material is dated. Also, and I beg, keep in mind I have come a long way with my crimes against punctuation since I began on this journey. This is the first 30 pages or so. I hope you enjoy. Any critiques would be greatly appreciated. I will post more as I have a chance to go through and make sure the chapters are legible. I have a horrible habit of thinking faster than I am able to type. Thank you. – JM)
The Beginning 1
Riad woke early as he did every morning, brushed his teeth, showered, and dressed. He quietly made a simple breakfast of sliced pineapple and bananas. He was always respectful to his roommates despite his secret loathing of them both.
He had lived here in this cramped apartment for almost two years as he attended NYU working towards a degree he knew he'd never finish. Riad was a peace loving sort who prayed every night that his people would be free of the infidels' oppression.
At times he found himself wondering if they were as bad as he had been taught. Then he would remember the flashes and explosions so powerful his hearing had been damaged. This he told his classmates was a hereditary problem.
Then with heart crushing clarity he remembered his mother. The memory of her so fragile, dying in his father's arms took over. She had a wooden beam deeply lodged in her chest; the pictures flooded his mind. The silent eeriness of it made his heart race and spine tingle even after all these years.
The beam had been driven home by the force of the infidel's mortar round. Whether human error or an act of nature, the round had missed the warehouse fifty yards away and had blown away the entire corner of his family's modest home.
His mother had tried to speak but could not form the words. It would have mattered little; he and his father would not have been able to hear. They watched her struggle to breathe her last breaths with destroyed lungs.
He steadied himself, fighting the urge to scream. Hatred hardened his heart. "Yes they are that bad." He muttered softly under his breath.
He noticed the time and hurried himself. He finished his breakfast and set out just as he had done every weekday for the past two years. It was only five in the morning when he hit the frigid New York streets and he felt revitalized by the brisk air, he kept a quick pace.
He followed his regimen to the minute. He met his train at the usual time, exited at his usual stop. He was known for being one of the first to arrive and last to leave at the school's massive library. He enjoyed learning and it kept his mind from his most feared enemy: doubt.
He began to study as he had always done but today was of course different than any before. He wondered to himself, will I live through this? He quickly shook this thought off, knowing it wasn't important. He had a mission and he would do what he was asked no matter what it was.
It was a quarter till seven when the messenger arrived. Riad didn't know what to make of this man. He was dressed in a canary yellow windbreaker, bicycle shorts, helmet, and gloves, all of which were covered in reflective strips. Riad hadn't known who would show up, but to trust such delicate information to just any bicycle messenger shocked him.
He signed for the envelope and nonchalantly opened it, feigning interest for the benefit of the nosy librarian who had pointed him out to the messenger. He acted happy as he pulled the card from the envelope.
He said, smiling, "It's my birthday."
"Happy birthday," replied the librarian who went back to her work, disinterested.
Riad had no problem acting; he had been doing so for years. He was after all on the frontlines of the war. He had to do what was expected of him. He had sworn to his fallen mother and the ailing father he had left behind to complete this mission.
The card was one of the musical types and as he opened it he had been afraid it would blare music into the silence of the early morning library, but it had not. It read "Happy birthday son, Love your Mother and Father."
This made his heart ache. His father had died a year after his arrival in the US. He had been unable to go back for the funeral, fearing it would jeopardize the mission. He scanned the library, making sure no prying eyes were on him. He flipped over the card and saw that where the manufacturer logo should have been, there was instead a fictitious brand name and an address. He gathered his belongings and casually left the library.
He made his way outside, hailed a cab, and went to the address. The cab ride took a long time, which was fine with Riad. He had casually opened a book containing the birthday card and using his thumbnail, tore open the part that normally contained the little device which played the music. He saw that in its place was a small silver key.
"Clever," he said under his breath.
"Huh," barked the groggy cabby who looked as if he hadn't had a day off in weeks.
"Oh nothing, sorry, I was just thinking out loud," he replied, without a trace of tension in his voice.
He arrived at the address at eight thirty. He paid the cabby, giving him a nice tip.
"Thanks Bub," retorted the cabby with a grin, "need me to wait on ya?"
Riad replied, "No thanks. I have business to handle here." I don't know exactly what business that is, he thought, as the cabby sped off.
He approached the building, which was a plain brick structure with a faded sign that read Jones's Short Term/Long Term Storage. He entered. There was a reception desk with a grumpy looking old man dozing in an old cushy lounge chair in front of a set of double steel doors.
At the sound of Riad entering the old man looked up and snapped, "Key, where's your key?"
Riad produced the key. The old man looked it over and handed it back wordlessly, buzzing him through to the storage area. The old man leaned back and began snoring immediately. Riad found this amusing and was grinning as he walked down the narrow corridor towards the locker that matched the number on his key.
The locker was small and the lock made quite a bit of noise, as if it hadn't been opened in a very long time. Riad imagined it had not been. He knew little of what he was involved in, but he knew that he was not alone. He was comforted to know that many other people just like him, warriors on the front line of this epic battle were following messages this very morning all on different paths driven by faith.
All he knew about what was to come was told to him by a mysterious figure in a dark room four years earlier. "There will be many, and not one of you will know the others involved. This plan was set into motion after the invasion of Kuwait by the Infidel Americans and their supporters. We have been placing people and equipment all over the world since 1993." He knew that this plan had cost lives, hundreds of millions of dollars, and sixteen years of hard work. He would not fail.
He slowly entered the small storage unit and was convinced there was some sort of mistake. It appeared to be filled with nonsense junk. There were boxes of old clothes, toys, and books. His heart sank. Was this all for nothing? Did someone fail at their portion of the mission? Are we found out? He began sweating, expecting armed assassins to come bearing down on him in a hail of bullets.
He waited a few tense minutes and when nothing happened, he began digging. He inspected box after box and just as he was sure there was nothing of use he saw a box labeled Riad's Junk tucked away in the back corner. All his fears faded and he knew that once he opened this box there was no turning back. He was filled with strength, knowing that his faith was about to be tested.
As he moved the cardboard box, he found it was bigger than the rest and very heavy, though still manageable. He was very careful with it, not sure what he would find inside. It could be anything, as he had no idea what had been planned for him.
He imagined explosives. That was the simplest way, he had long thought, strap on a bomb and blow myself up somewhere densely populated. He always hoped it wouldn't be explosives but that was irrelevant. He would do what he must.
He held his breath and opened the box. "Balloons?" He choked. The box was half full of deflated balloons. They were the nice ones you buy for birthdays and anniversaries and such. Pulling the balloons out slowly, looking for some form of instruction, he found a small note taped to the inside of the box which read:
Riad you are a great man and your name will echo through the halls of history through all the ages to come. Keep your faith my brother and you shall be a hero. Fill as many of these as you can carry around with you, release the gas on buses, trains, anywhere the infidels congregate. Do this all this day until you are caught or killed. If you are blessed with one more day, be in Time's Square at nine am tomorrow. God be with you my friend.
He didn't know who had written the letter, but it did not matter. He understood secrecy was important so that the architects of this great mission could live on to formulate new scenarios for exterminating the enemy.
He removed all the balloons and saw four helium tanks beneath. He filled and sealed a large bunch of balloons, then tied them in a bunch and added a bow. The old man did not stir as he left and he was careful not to let the door slam.
He waited at the bus stop and whistled Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. He was quite fond of classical music. As the lumbering bus approached, his whistling ceased and his lips expanded into a warm smile for the driver as the doors opened.
He sat in the first open seat he came to, he was all smiles to the other passengers but his insides were churning. He noticed a beautiful blond women sitting nearby. He caught her eye and she smiled sweetly at him. He let his mind wander for a moment, imagining her holding him, telling him how much she loved him. He saw their children being born and growing. He saw their future house and their blissful happiness.
The woman noticed he was still watching her as he was lost in his thoughts and her smile broadened. Just as quickly as he let his mind wander he snapped back into reality. Just for a moment, the woman saw the vicious intent in his eyes but he recovered with a quick smile. The young woman did not look at him again and exited at the next stop.
He admonished himself silently. How could you be so foolish, she is as bad as any of them, she may as well have launched the mortar that killed your mother! They are the enemy and they are not to be trusted!
With that he punctured the first balloon. He went from bus to bus and train to train, careful he did not pop more than one in front of the same people, in order to avoid suspicion.
He traveled all over the city, visiting parts he had never been to before, often feigning disdain if anyone noticed one of his slackening balloons. He returned eight times that day each time carrying away a fresh bunch of balloons and a box of junk to make it appear he was just emptying the storage unit. The people running the place did not seem to care one way or the other.
Riad mused at how easy this all was more than once that long day. They don't care enough to notice what is going on around them. These people deserve whatever they get.
In the afternoon he stood in a busy subway tunnel releasing balloon after balloon filled with what, he did not know, nor did he care. He had developed a cough that was mild at first and progressively worsened. At first he thought that it was being out so much that day that was making him sick, but then it occurred to him that it was most likely what he was unleashing upon the unsuspecting infidels. They are so prideful, they believe they can attack us in our homes but are safe to come and go as they please.
He spent twelve hours doing as his instructions had bade him until he was too sick to even think of continuing. He had noticed a great deal of sneezing and coughing much like his own during the last few hours.
He returned home at nearly eleven that night. His roommates were both home but did not greet him. They were already asleep. He thought this to be strange, considering neither of them ever went to bed this early. As he dozed off in between his own coughing and sneezing fits, he could have sworn he heard the same sounds of sickness coming from both of his roommates' bedrooms.
When he woke the next morning he was surprised to see it was already bright outside. He had never overslept in the two years he had lived here. He had trouble getting up and getting to the bathroom. He was running a high fever and sweat poured from his body. There was no sound in the apartment except the wheezing coming from the other two bedrooms.
The gravity of what he had done slowly began to set in. It was obvious that both his roommates had the same symptoms as him and neither of them used the bus or subways. He began to wonder just what was in those helium tanks.
He took a much longer than usual shower, trying to let the steam clear his sinuses but to no avail. He got dressed, but did not eat. He left without waking his roommates. Despite years of acting as their friend, they were nothing to him, just two more enemies that needed to be dealt with.
He left the apartment at seven am and it took him an hour and a half to walk to Times Square. This walk would normally take him no more than an hour but he was very tired this morning. He didn't want to ride the bus or to take the train so he just walked. He noticed even for this hour there were fewer people than normal. Another thing he noticed were the amount of sirens he heard. More than half the people he did see all seemed to be in the throes of a horrible flu just like him.
Riad found an unoccupied bench in Times Square and waited. He prayed silently to himself. He could not stop coughing but from what he had seen this morning he had done his job well. He smiled despite the fever and pain in his chest. At five minutes to nine a man sat down beside him.
"Riad?" The man asked.
This startled Riad and he slowly replied, "Yes."
"I only received your name this morning in a note I found with this briefcase, it said that you would be here by nine and that if you had done your job well you would be very sick. My friend I know you did your job well because I am very sick also."
"I thought this was all to be secret?" replied Riad, a bit shocked.
"I know, my friend. The note told me to explain that I was to meet you before the end because true warriors like us deserve better than to die alone with nothing but the company of infidels."
Neither of the two sick men spoke again, they just sat and prayed silently for their remaining moments. Each man knew that at exactly nine am they would be at their god's side. They both sat sickly smiling as the small nuclear device detonated. Times Square was vaporized.
Simultaneously in major cities all across the world similar situations unfolded. Any country allied with the US was attacked, but none to the extent of the US. There were attacks in thirty states. Within minutes the news spread around the globe. Fifteen minutes after the detonations there was a broadcast accepting responsibility.
The static cleared and the familiar face of Osama Bin Laden appeared. The message was short and disturbing. "American Infidels, you and your allies will all be destroyed. The first phase of our attack was more successful than we could have dreamt, the Infidels shall fall!"
The world was thrown into a state of panic. The highways and interstates around the world became jammed with panicked people fleeing for the safety of the countryside. They believed they were escaping certain nuclear death if they left the cities.
Their plan could not have worked better. The millions of people fleeing carried with them a death sentence far worse than they could have imagined. The virus spread like wild fire. There was a complete collapse of emergency services, crash victims died in their vehicles, house fires burned unchecked, and all semblance of order collapsed.
The National Guard was ordered to block all interstate traffic but it was futile. In many cases the guardsmen were over powered by armed civilians. When they tried to defend themselves with force, they were gunned down. There was no stemming the flood of sick from swarming the rural countryside. It was hope that drove them on, and it was hope that sentenced millions more to a horrific death.
By the time the government knew what was happening, it was far too late. The president issued a plea to cease all movement, warning that traveling was only going to spread the virus faster and increase the mortality rate. His plea went unheeded. It seemed none would be spared.
The virus acted fast. Anyone who contracted it only believed they had the flu at first. It progressed so rapidly that by the time the sick realized it was something worse than the flu they were already in the throes of a fever-induced delirium. This aided in the spread of panic. The infected, suffering from diminished mental capacity, resorted to the most basic instincts: fight or flight.
Riad died without knowing what he had released on the American people, but knowing there would be casualties. He believed these casualties would be localized. When the stranger with the briefcase arrived he understood there was a bomb inside but he had not realized that it was nuclear.
The thousands of people he imagined dying were only a miniscule drop in the ocean of deaths that he actually caused. Not even the architects of this intended genocide could have truly grasped its scope.
The bombs had killed hundreds of thousands, being detonated simultaneously at the beginning of the work day in dense areas as they were. The true genius of the plan was made evident during the following days after the explosions.
Within three days American losses had reached 50 million people. These numbers were impossible to substantiate because the infrastructure had all but collapsed.
There were vague stories before the networks went off the air that this was an accelerated form of the Ebola virus. These stories raised more questions than answers. Millions more died each day. In a healthy adult it took three to four days from infection to death. Within two weeks, ninety percent of all human life was snuffed out. This dramatic turn of events was something no one could have foreseen.
He stood proud, even as imminent death approached. Slowly with great effort, "As you can see no one is immune to these, most unholy of events. Millions of our friends, neighbors," briefly he paused, choking back tears, "and loved ones have already fallen to the disease that is spanning the globe."
The last words he had spoken seemed to add weight to his withering frame and he fell to his knees. The podium obscured the view, but it was more than obvious the President was vomiting. The dying man gasped for air, unable to catch his breath. Uniformed doctors, most of whom appeared to be in no better condition than their prestigious patient, rushed to his side. Suddenly without any warning the network feed was cut, ending the last Presidential speech ever to be given.
Alex sat silently hanging on every word. Teary eyed in disbelief he vaulted off the couch towards the TV, aloud he said, "This isn't real, this is like that comedian, yeah that's it, the crappy comedian who does the presidential impersonations. That's not really the President there; this is some sick bastard's idea of a joke. How could I have been so stupid, it's obvious he's a fake, he's too small, doesn't have the right skin tone and the voice is way off." Self-assured this was nothing more than a hoax he changed the channel.
Alex checked all 8 of the stations his television would pick up and was horrified to see that every channel was either static or an emergency services message. His assurance fled him as quickly as they had come. His hope waned, only to be replaced with despair and confusion.
Shaking violently, as he was known to do when reason had begun to fail him, Alex screamed, "This is America, this shit doesn't happen here!"
He jumped to his feet and half ran, half stumbled to the rear of the house. He stormed into the cramped bathroom grabbing the door to the medicine cabinet, knocking over a ceramic vase which shattered as it hit the tank of the toilet. Ceramic shards rained down around his bare feet, slicing the exposed skin. Oblivious, he continued his search. All that was going through his mind was that he needed his pills.
He had taken himself off these pills as he had done every other time they put him on something new, always giving him the spiel about how he needed to give them a few months to start working properly. He gave it a few months, went as long as four on these. They too, only seemed to aggravate his symptoms more than help. The only good side effect, he could see, was that they were capable of causing him to sleep for extended periods of time. He once slept thirty-six hours after taking only four. At this moment, all he wanted was to go to sleep and forget the world. He would work this all out when He woke up.
They were not where he remembered leaving them. He slammed the medicine cabinet so violently the mirrored door shattered raining even more razor sharp projectiles down on himself. This to, he seemed not to notice.
He tore back towards the front of the house. He over turned furniture, smashed holes in the walls, and launched any inanimate objects which dared be in his way.
Entering the kitchen he began slinging the entire contents of cabinets onto the floor with one sweep of his broad arm. To him the time spent searching seemed more an eternity than the 20 minutes it actually was. He jerked the microwave away from the wall with more force than was necessary. It flew nearly to the other side of the kitchen.
He found what he'd been searching for behind the microwave. "How in the fuck did you get there?" He yelled at the bottle, which he then opened and dry swallowed six 300 mg. tablets of Seroquel.
Alex, still very much in the midst of a psychotic episode, calmed down considerably, "More than enough, I will sleep a full day, two if I'm lucky." Talking to the wake of his most recent destructive outburst, he continued. "Just enough time for a smoke," he told the ruined kitchen.
He righted the overturned couch and sat down. He then noticed that the emergency services loop had gone to static. The pills had begun very quickly to do their magic. He hadn't eaten in days so there was nothing in his stomach to slow down his digestion. He got up, nearly falling over the battered coffee table and clicked off the TV. He made his way back to the couch, dropped onto it, and with cigarette and lighter in hand passed out.
He dreamed terrible dreams, but the one that He was having now seemed too good to be true. It was real to Him as His dreams always seemed to be. He was with his brother in Cleveland. His brother, a guitarist was on the road and would have been in Cleveland that very night.
There were no diseased people here, everyone seemed happy to see him. In his dream he was thrilled, the concert was packed and going great. Everything felt fine to him, which was quite unusual. At that moment he was happier than he had been in years. It had been a very long time since last he had dared going into a crowded place. It had been two full years since he'd last even been inside a grocery store, but this night, this concert, everything was perfect.
He began to notice that the crowd was all people he knew. These were all the people he cared most about in the world, all his friends, and loved ones were gathered here. Then for a second he thought he glimpsed His Grandmother, who had raised him since he was seven years old.
At first, it didn't seem very odd to him that she'd be amongst all those he cared about. It struck him suddenly, his stomach dropped as if he were on a roller coaster. "She's dead, been dead five years now. That was just my imagination." He blurted. As if on cue, she appeared before him, an apparition breaking through the crowd. She was all smiles and warmth.
"GET OUT!" She screamed. He stumbled backwards towards the bar, blindly landing on a bar stool. She had changed; he was in shock to see the woman he had most admired was now a grotesque rotted version of herself.
The band stopped playing; this drew his attention in the direction of the stage where he saw what he feared more than death itself. His brother was there holding his guitar in a state best described as living death. "Rick, oh God, Rick, what has happened to you?"
"It is ok little brother, I'm ok now, but you need to go," said the animated corpse of his brother.
They were all dead all around him, everyone he knew. It was not fear that welled inside him, it was sorrow and shame that they were all dead and he was not. Even in his own dreams he had no sense of self-worth.
He began to cry, and the rapidly decomposing crowd all gave sympathetic looks. They began to fall apart silently with no signs of discomfort or even sorrow, as if they were all resigned to their fates. Most were still smiling when their legs crumbled under the weight of their torsos.
The floor appeared to be no floor at all but some benevolent entity greedily swallowing up all he loved. They fell into the all-encompassing darkness. The darkness was spreading. There were no sounds other than a giggle which he was sure had come from his long dead sister. She died along with his parents in the crash, which altered his waking life forever.
Now there were only four remaining. Still on the stage were his brother and the only three other people he had spent any real time with since leaving High School. He began to cry harder looking at these four people he was now sure he'd never see again.
Rick spoke, "Alex you have to leave, you can't stay in this place, all that made it home is gone. It's a new world for you now. Live, you hear me? Live."
"I don't understand, what happened to you, why are you dead," He begged.
"That's how it has to be," Rick had tears in his eyes but his voice never faltered. "It's now the perfect world for you Bro, no people," at this the three people who knew him best standing just behind his brother laughed.
In unison the three said, "Love ya man," graciously they stepped off the stage and into the darkness before Alex had to witness their decomposing any further.
"I have to go, I love you Brother, take care of yourself, and no matter what, don't forget to leave," Said his dead brother. He added earnestly, "It will be hard, but I know you can do it."
"I…I… don't understand," he was cut off as his brother cranked the volume on his guitar stack and started playing a song Alex knew well, Seasons In The Abyss, by Slayer. Still playing with a last look at his brother and a nod he jumped into the darkness.
He was falling. He wasn't sure how long he'd been falling, but usually he had panicked at this feeling while dreaming. This time it was different, as if he were comforted by his own weightlessness. After the dream and the sensation of falling ebbed away he slept peacefully for 8 more hours.
It was a day like any other day, the sky was visible through the smudged windows of his little room. The somber grey clouds were motionless. With effort, he rolled on his side to see the time and to find a cigarette. He wasn't sure how he'd made it to his room, but that was normal. He often found himself in different places than he'd fallen asleep.
Seroquel sleep was his favorite sleep; he often woke with his mind a blank slate. He rubbed his temples, trying to remember. "What happened last night?" Then as in answer a sharp pain tore through his head starting at the nape of his neck continuing around to his eyes. As his eyes blurred and tears began to form it all came back to him. "How did this happen?" He yelled at the ceiling.
He remembered the dream with perfect clarity, his brother, grandmother and all his dead friends trying to warn him away, he whispered, "But from what?"
He got up stumbled through the house towards the living room, all the while surveying the damage from the previous night's rampage. He turned on the T.V. and searched the channels, all were gone. Static is the only reward his search provided.
"How could this be?" he asked aloud.
"No one to run the stations you goof ball," he heard his brother say in the back of his head.
Checking the stereo He only found an emergency services loop, "By order of the President of the United States of America, all citizens are to cease all movement. The United States has been attacked by terrorists using small nuclear devices, as well as biological weaponry. The only way to stop the spread of this virus is to cease all movement. If you believe yourself to have been infected, do not seek medical help. Find a secure location and quarantine yourself. Seeking help will only spread the disease further. There is no cure; I repeat there is no cure."
"FUCK YOU!" He yelled, which freshened the unbearable pain in his head. He paced from room to room trying to grasp what had happened. All his thoughts were confused glimpses of horror fantasy coated in a thin layer of reality.
"I'm going crazy", he chanted to himself under his breath. He walked through the house, looking in every closet, every cabinet, and drawer, as if searching for some lost artifact of sanity, he collapsed on the couch. The pills he had taken the night before had not yet run their course. He dozed fitfully.
Half asleep he heard a loud bang from the rear of the house. Alex jumped off the couch in a run, tripped over the over turned coffee table and slammed into the TV stand knocking the television to the floor. Stunned he regained his footing and picked his way to the front door.
Silently he begged God that the noise had been His brother. "Rick, Bro is that you?" No answer came as he stood on the porch looking around. Then he heard it again, this time he heard breaking glass.
He couldn't contain his excitement, "Bro where are you?" he ran, nearly falling as he rounded the corner at full speed. To his disappointment, the yard was empty.
It was cold out; the calm was eerie this early March morning. Alex was grief stricken; in that moment it occurred to him he would never see his brother again. Then he remembered the noise. He slowly continued around his house, near the rear there were three hard cover novels on the ground.
"Alex, over here," Issued a raspy voice he nearly recognized.
"Who is it?" He asked startled as he turned slowly around.
There in the window of his neighbor's house, was what looked like a zombie. The once robust family man looked like something from a late night sci-fi marathon. The discharge appeared green in the early morning light and steamed as his neighbor leaned out the window to vomit. It oozed from his nose, ears, and mouth. The eye sockets seemed empty from where Alex stood. He needed to get closer to see if this man were really alive. Being prone to hallucinations, as he was, he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real.
Alex had known John for five years and was sure this wasn't his neighbor. This was not the man he had sat with and watched his two little girls play in the yard. Alex remember watching, longing for a family of his very own. He thought this is someone else for sure. I just saw John last week; this poor guy is at least 50 lbs. lighter. He began to walk closer.
"Stop," yelled His neighbor. The exertion obviously pained him; he groaned and began dry heaving.
"I, I," stuttered Alex, realizing his folly, but could not think of what to say.
After gaining his composure, as well as he was able,"Alex is your phone still working?"
"I don't know, I have a dial tone but I haven't talked to anyone in several days. My brother is out of town," answered Alex. "He should be calling soon." He added.
"I'm going to call you in a minute, I need to talk to you, it's important." He wheezed. There was pity in John's voice; he knew what Alex was denying. The chances that his brother was still alive in all this were very unlikely.
Alex was back on the couch where he spent most of His time, "waiting to die," he had mused to a friend of his and his brother. He had laughed at the time, but all the while, in the back of his mind, he believed it to be true.
After about five minutes the phone rang, "Hello John?"
"Yeah, how you holding up Alex, I would have called sooner but I thought you left with your brother." John was having trouble catching His breath.
"I'm sorry, are you guys ok?" He felt like such an ass for not checking on John and his family.
"We were all infected, my girls and my wife died earlier this morning." John's voice had diminished to the point where Alex had to turn the volume up on the phone to full just to hear him.
Alex was stunned, again he thought of how he had envied this man for all he had. Now this same man, his only friend beyond the members of his brother's band, had lost everything. He was now losing his life. Tears began to fill His eyes, as he thought of John's daughters and how young they were.
"John, I am so sorry," Alex felt that to be inadequate to tell a man who just lost two children and His wife, but was at a loss of what else to say.
"Thank you," John was weeping, and just holding the phone up was more than a task for him, but he needed help so he continued. "Alex, how are you feeling, are you showing any symptoms?"
Alex thought a minute, his head was pounding. This was more than he could deal with, he thought, yet he was here. "I have a bad headache, but that's normal. Other than that I feel fine." He felt foolish complaining of a headache to a dying man.
"When was the last time you were around anyone? Try and remember, even if it was just a quick trip to the store."
"It's been at least 4 days, the day my brother left. I went to the store for smokes." He answered.
"That's great Alex, you have been spared." John choked. Although his entire family was dead, and he too would be following shortly, he meant it.
Alex had always been kind in their brief talks over the years. John knew he was troubled, he drank too much, and listened to heavy metal music to loud. John also knew that if ever there was a problem; Alex was the first one at his door to help. He thought of the time his wife was hospitalized for two weeks due to complications with her pregnancy. Alex had done all his yard work, made sure his trash was taken out, and came by at least once a day to see if he needed anything. He thought to himself, not everyone would agree, but I couldn't have picked a better person to survive.
"But everyone else is dying, what am I supposed to do?" Alex was trying to stifle his audible sobbing.
"Listen to me Alex, God doesn't make mistakes. You have been spared for a reason. There will be other survivors, not everyone will die. The people who survive this must ban together and help each other. You must go and seek them out." John spoke, as reassuringly as his failing health would allow.
"What about my brother, I can't leave, what if he comes back and I am gone?" Alex began to feel dizzy, thinking he would surely pass out. He closed his eyes waiting for it to pass.
"Alex, you should write him a letter and tape it to the door, tell him you have gone to find other survivors and that he should do the same." Replied John, he then added, "He will find you, if he makes it, he will find you." John thought this is not the time for sugar coating.
John began to throw up uncontrollably, he fell to the floor with a bang, leaving Alex feeling hopeless, not being able to help. Alex waited for quite a long while, but could still hear John gasping so he remained on the line.
"Alex, you still there," gasped John, winded but still alive.
"Yeah, I'm still here," relieved to hear John's voice, even as desperate as it sounded.
"Alex I want you to take my truck. Grab my camping gear from the shop and get out of here," he then hesitated, before saying, "but I need a favor first."
"Anything John, just ask," quickly replied Alex.
"I want to be with my family in heaven. Suicide is a sin, being merciful is not." John had more despair in his voice than Alex had thought possible before now.
"OK John," he answered before what was asked, had had time to sink in.
"Out in my shop is a gun safe, take everything in it, if not for protection, you will have to hunt.
"Are you sure this is what you want," praying he would say no.
"There is no one else to ask, all our neighbors are either dead, or they left." Then as an afterthought added, "those that left are most likely dead as well."
"I will do it," God only, knows how, he thought.
"Alex after you are finished and ready to leave, set fire to the house. I can't stand the thought of my family rotting away like this. The fire will kill the virus.
"John, I wish this hadn't happened, I am scared, and I am so sorry for what has happened to you guys." Alex cried.
"Listen Alex, you will be fine, and what happened was not you're doing. The signs were there all along, but no one thought it was possible. You are a good man; I want you to get away. Go west; get somewhere where there are no buildings and no people. Take all you find with you and start over, but don't forget us. Tell your children what happened, so they will know better than to do what we have done. Alex, remember this was an attack. Sooner or later the ones who did this will show up, if they survived." John was becoming delirious from the pain, and was barely audible now.
"John I will never forget you and your family, you had what I've always dreamt of having." Alex was crying again as he said this.
"You will go on to have beautiful children, and you will be a great father," whispered John through his own tears.
John gave Alex the combination to his gun safe, and told him where he had his spare key to the shop hidden. After telling him where he'd be in the house, he hung up the phone. He could no longer breathe without serious pain and talking was something he'd never do again.
Alex went into the shop. He felt as if he were dreaming all this, for surely this couldn't be real. He opened the safe, took out a rifle. He loaded it with bullets from a fresh box stored neatly at the bottom.
He found the spare keys to John's truck. On the key ring was a picture of John's little girls, forever frozen in time. Their smiles encased in the plastic picture holder his wife had given him. The sight of those little girls, so happy, so far away from where they were now made fresh tears well in Alex's eyes. Maybe it was John's words, but at that moment Alex felt a strong desire to be gone from this place.
He only took one gun, he'd come back for the rest of the things shortly. He had something to do. He went into his house and got a cigarette and walked back outside. Slowly he skirted the lifeless bushes, it was still very cold and they had not yet awoken from their winter slumber. He slowly approached his neighbor's home and made his way around to the master bedroom's window.
Clearly he could see John through the window kneeling on the foot of the bed praying over the bodies of his wife and children.
Alex slowly raised the rifle to his shoulder; looking through the scope he targeted John's head. He knew that if he hit him anywhere else or merely wounded him that John would lay there suffering even more than he was now. There would be no way to enter to complete the task without getting infected. The rifle shook in his inexperienced hands. He was sweating despite the cold, he attempted to steady himself, then prepared to fire.
"God help me please," he squeezed the trigger expecting this to finally be over. Nothing happened; he went weak in the knees nearly falling to the ground. "You gave your word to your friend, now do this!" He demanded of himself.
Surprised at the authority in his own voice he checked the rifle and realized the safety was on. He raised the rifle once more sighting his friends head and slowly squeezed the trigger. As if he knew it were time, John raised his hands towards heaven. The report was deafening, it appeared to Alex that in death John had embraced his family as he fell forward. His friend would no longer suffer.
The sound had scared Alex; he stood for a moment with silent ears ringing. Suddenly he became stricken with the fear that he must be having a psychotic episode. If he had hallucinated all these events, that meant he had just murdered his neighbor. He waited barely breathing like a deer in headlights. He was expecting at any moment for his neighbors to come running down the road screaming, "Murderer! Murderer!" This he even pictured in his mind.
After five minutes or five hours he did not know, there were still no sirens, no police, nothing at all. He was all alone.
Aloud he said, "This is such a small town, if everyone here is dead, then everyone must really be dead." His own words chilled him.
He stood frozen a few minutes more then slowly walked back to the shop. He began packing what he needed into John's truck.
He checked every house on his block, yelling from a distance but there were no replies. In a few windows he saw that the corpses of the old and young were indistinguishable from one another. We are all the same in death he thought, just bodies. He could see from the distorted faces that several had died in pain, he felt a twinge of guilt. Then he whispered, "What was I to do shoot everyone on my street? A sane person wouldn't be able to handle that."
He wrote his brother a lengthy letter explaining what had happened, and detailing where he planned to go. Then he burned every house on his street except his own. He climbed into John's truck and drove to the end of the street and just sat and watched the fires. He hoped and prayed someone would see the flames and come, no one did. After an hour of waiting, he left the place he had called home for over twenty years. He never saw it again.


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Balance your food choices throughout the day so you can enjoy a serving of this rich-and-indulgent cake with your loved ones.
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Dawood Lawns does not offer any return or MONEY-BACK-GURANTE on all purchased items. The refund occurs unless the unlikely situation occurs in which we have sent you a defective or wrong item that will be only refunded/exchanged if the purchased good is unused and undamaged by the customer within 10 working days once delivered.
There is no Refund or Exchange for products that are offered at our discount section. In case of exchange, both way shipment charges are to be borne by the customer.
Our shipping timing for orders DELIVERY within PAKISTAN will be 48-72 hours if the product is available, otherwise the customer will be informed regarding the availability. For International Customers delivery timing will be 7 to 10 working days if the product is available, otherwise the customer will be informed regarding the availability. There can be unexpected delivery delays due to custom clearance. The delay can go up to 3-4 working days. 1) We offer free shipping within Pakistan, however incase of shipment charges being applied, it will be clearly displayed once you proceed for check out. 2) There may be restrictions on accepting orders for different locations, as it cannot be shipped to those locations. 3) In such scenarios, your order will not be accepted and you will be advised to contact customer care, change your destination or cancel entire order. 4) Shipping rates will apply as per your weight, and can vary location wise. The minimum charges are calculated for you and are shown on the final review of your order page, before you pay for the goods. The final delivery charge will be calculated prior to the dispatch of the products and if different from the charge shown on "the final review of your order" page you will be informed of the final delivery charges. 5) You may also be subject to pay import duties and taxes, which are levied once the package reaches the specified destination. You must pay any additional charges for customs clearance; we have no control over these charges and cannot predict what they may be. Customs policies vary widely from country to country, so you should contact your local customs office for further information.


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malaysia deposit insurance corporation regulations 2012 Can Be Fun For Anyone
On March 26, 2014, the Federal Reserve claimed that Citigroup was one of several five fiscal institutions that had failed its stress exams, but that Citigroup experienced failed it all over again. Contrary to inside the unsuccessful anxiety exam in 2012, the Fed failed Citigroup on qualitative worries, which have been remaining unresolved Even with regulatory warnings, versus quantitative calculations.
Course action assistance providers like Chicago Clearing Corporation aided lots of fiscal institutions, like hedge funds, mutual money, and lender belief, get back this revenue soon after Keeping what gave the impression to be a seemingly Secure expense.[citation wanted]
[174][site necessary] In keeping with Suskind, Obama needed to restructure the financial institution into many leaner and smaller sized firms even though Geithner was executing pressure exams of yankee economic institutions.
1997. In response into the Asian financial crisis, The federal government imposes limits on currency buying and selling and announces public shelling out cuts.
Foodstuff poisoning seldom takes place, but some Individuals expertise mild sorts of dysentery or diarrhea following feeding on inside the nearby open-air foodstuff stalls and, from time to time, the higher dining establishments.
The function in the mining sector, which at the time played an important job in Malaysian exports, is usually declining. For years, Malaysia was the whole world's largest producer of tin, but in the early nineteen nineties was overtaken by Brazil and neighboring Indonesia.
The economic system in Malaysia recovered after a slow down in 1997. Prime Minister Mahathir blamed Intercontinental speculators, Specially U.S. billionaire George Soros, whom Mahathir believed was to blame for manipulating the forex current market in Asia in 1997. In reaction for the declining economic climate Mahathir Lower federal government expending by 18 % and delayed substantial progress jobs.
Malaysia's customs authorities may enforce strict regulations concerning non permanent importation into or export from Malaysia of things for instance firearms, religious components, antiquities, drugs, organization products, currency, ivory, and also other objects. It really is a good idea to Call the Embassy of Malaysia in Washington or considered one of Malaysia's consulates in The us for unique facts regarding customs prerequisites.
Malaysia has set up a diverse and speedily-expanding production sector that performs Look At This an ever-increasing position during the Malaysian economy. Manufacturing contributes about 29 % of the GDP, providing employment to two.
The the latest economic turbulence of 1997 and 1998 introduced larger unemployment, bigger selling prices, and lower incomes. This specially impacted the most vulnerable social teams of society, not simply in rural areas, but in addition in major city facilities. However, there have been no significant groups of individuals migrating from the state, and Malaysia's quality of life remained a lot better than in neighboring Indonesia, the Philippines, or Thailand.
[six] The deal would empower Travelers to market mutual money and insurance to Citicorp's retail customers whilst supplying the banking divisions use of an expanded customer foundation of traders and insurance buyers.
Numerous dentists function private clinics read this in the town and might fulfill routine dental requirements like orthodontic treatment. Orthodontia tends to be less costly than while in the U.S., but treatment might differ from click resources U.S. procedures.
Via the mid 1930s there have been around eighty-four periodicals published in Singapore and throughout the Malay Peninsula. Through the years 1935 and 1936 there were twenty-five new Malaysia newspapers revealed within the Malay language. Escalating commercialization and professionalism in journalism, coupled Together with the very affordable price, caused newspapers to prosper.
On Sabah and Sarawak, lowland forests incorporate some four hundred species of tall dipterocarps (hardwoods) and semihardwoods; fig trees abound, attracting compact mammals and birds; and groves are fashioned from the comprehensive aerial roots of warangen (a sacred tree to indigenous peoples).


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My new blog entry is here (30 people just killed themselves)
Now, I bet there's gonna be a hero who saves the day and the lives of all the people who are much too stupid to go somewhere, there always is... But it takes a good 3-4 episodes before this bomb that is "about to go off" to actually almost go off before the suave, sharp hero walks in and then 3 more episodes when he is trying to disarm the bomb... he isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer... he probably doesn't have a Ph.D... even though in the show he is probably a doctor. Soon he'll be surrounded by attractive women one of which he is married to, another is his mistress, another is his nurse, and the last is probably his evil demon queen... all of whom he has sex with on a regular basis. Now none of these women have any idea that the others have been probed by him lately. (I'd usually say they knew his wife was but they're pretty stupid... I'm surprised they know how to breathe, let alone talk or know something)
I've seen a few soap operas in my time... not because I like them, but because I wake up in the morning on the couch, my sisters have already taken over the television, and are about to watch their "soaps". Well, I woke up just in time to torture myself, yipee. I try to get away, but then my sister does the unthinkable... asks me to watch. I reply with a simple... "Uhhh... noooo?..." then there is swearingand yelling, and to make people not hate Tim, he sits down... everything is calm... but then the show starts... my god, did they go to the, "Overly Attractive Handicapped Hospital" to find their actors... they mispronounce words, and can act about as well as I can skateboard(Which for those of you who don't know isn't very well) and the script writers come down the street from the "OAHH" at the "My God How Do I Make a Good Plot? Hospital". Well the mixture of the two, become a festering pile of crap... sure beautiful crap, but it's still crap. While I'm ranting on about soap operas I suppose I'll talk about the most gratuitous award of all time... THE SOAPIES!!!!... and I'll tell you how it goes, whoever was the least crappy at acting their part (Remember people these performances aren't worth Golden Globes, or Grammys here), gets a funny little award, that any self respecting actor or actress would torch as soon as they got home.
So I leave you now, my Homedawgs, and Homedawgettes, to ponder the mythical words of me, your lord and master... or maybe I'm just the guy, who writes a blog that you aren't too excited to read, who the hell knows... but if you read it, leave me a message, I need some feedback... and I don't wan't any, ROFLMAO, U SUXORZ LOLOLOLOL!!!1... Maybe try to be just as or a little less logical than my blog... I'm leaving you alot of room to speak here people... Until next time ciao!!


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Espresso Translations is a translation company providing hardware translation services in more than 150 languages by native-speaking tech-savvy translators.
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Eight stolen older-model Honda Civics were recovered today near each other on the Northwest Side, and police are trying to see if the thefts were related.
A Chicago Police evidence technician processes two stolen Honda Civics. (For the Tribune / Mike Anzaldi)
Seven of the Civics were found parked on several streets in the Logan Square neighborhood and an eighth car was found in the Montclare neighborhood, said Chicago Police News Affairs Officer Veejay Zala.
The Civics were all reported stolen between Jan. 23 and Jan. 31. Most of the cars were reported stolen from the Northwest Side's Albany Park, Grand Central, Wood Street and Belmont police districts. An eighth car was reported stolen from the Ogden police district on the Near North Side, Zala said.


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Friday, October 16, 2009
Weighty Matters
It is long but very informative:
We all think eating fruits means just buying fruits, cutting it and just popping it into our mouths....It is not as easy as you think. It is important to know how and when to eat. So what is the correct way of eating fruits?
It means not eating fruits after your meals! Fruits should be eaten on an empty stomach.
If you eat fruit like that, it will play a major role to detoxify your system, supplying you with a great deal of energy for weight loss and other life activities.
Fruit is the most important food. Let's say you eat two slices of bread and then a slice of fruit. The slice of fruit is ready to go straight through the stomach into the intestines, but it is prevented from doing so.
In the mean time the whole meal rots and ferments and turns into acid. The minute the fruit comes into contact with the food in the stomach and digestive juices, the entire mass of food begins to spoil.....
So please eat your fruits on an empty stomach or before your meals! ( I googled how long it takes to digest fruit and it says some fruit as fast as 15 min other a little longer) You have heard people complaining - every time I eat watermelon I burp, when I eat during my stomach bloats up, when I eat a banana I feel like running to the toilet, etc. - actually all this will not arise if you eat the fruit on an empty stomach. The fruit mixes with the putrefying other food and produces gas and hence you bloat! Ewww...
This stated that graying hair, balding, nervous outburst, and dark circles under the eyes all these will not happen if your take fruit on an empty stomach. (That I don't know about but the other stuff I have tried for over a week and my 'basketball' stomach is deflating.)
When you need to drink fruit juice - drink only fresh fruit juice (This is kinda hard to do unless you have a juicer). Not from the cans. Don't even drink juice that has been heated up. Don't eat cooked fruits because you don't get the nutrients at all. You only get to taste. Cooking destroys all the vitamins.
Okay there is more wisdom from this stuff sent to me but I won't bore you. I do not know about all that it claims I do know that for me it is working on my weight and my stomach. Just thought yall might enjoy this. :)
4 comments:
- Beth said...
I think I'll go eat a banana! (on my empty stomach) :)
- October 16, 2009 at 11:40 AM
it really does work!! we gotta go stock up on some fruit!
- October 18, 2009 at 3:47 PM
- Sandy said...
OK, girl send all that info to me please. Excellent information. I honestly feel soooo much better when I eat mainly raw fruits and veggies and yes it does detoxify you. I have been doing so well on that diet until last week when I was going to have surgery and I was like a freakaziod eating everything sweet, chocolate mainly and junk. I have felt ROTTEN getting back on that junk. That is good to know to eat fruit on an empty stomach. Please send me some tips to my email. This is a new blog that I have started. I decided to go private on the other one for me and my family. Talk to you soon, love you girl. I know that losing slowly is a much healthier way to go!
- October 18, 2009 at 4:27 PM
- Sandy said...
Sherry, I forgot to tell you that I am so glad you are blogging again. I missed you! I forgot to give you the address of my new blog...
- October 22, 2009 at 11:50 PM


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Hosting, with maximum generality is a network service used to allocate the pages of a web site to a server, so that they are accessible globally by users, applications and search engines. There are two complementary aspects in the various types of hosting that should be never confused or superimposed: on one hand the same definition of web, combined with the most innovative acquired technologies in the field, doesn't show any difference in the display and the use of the site from the client's point of view, if the hosting is supported by a Windows or Linux operative system.
From the server's point of view, or if you prefer, the webmaster who sets everything, things can change radically: it depends on the type of use we expect to make from the website.
Firstly we can say that:
- If you use static sites (or without databases, only HTML pages), using one or the other is substantially indifferent, if not for a slight difference in handling the file names;
- The Windows hosting is optional if you want to use PHP/MySQL (assuming it supports the IIS 7 web server)while it is indispensible for ASP. NET and MSSQL, simply because they are natively supported and they are not compatible with Linux;
- On the contrary, the Linux hosting natively supports PHP, Ruby, Perl, Python, MySQL and CGI and it doesn't allow the use of ASP .NET and MSSQL, since these two belong to Microsoft.
There is also a further aspect related to the safety of the two systems: although it is a widespread cliché thinking that Linux is more secure than Windows (depending on the system administrators), it's a fact that the first one allows to manage security in a more quality mode. Just think of the file permissions, for example, that can be configured with the appropriate command CHMOD (which allows you to determine whether a file can be executed, reading or writing) that is absent in Windows (which supports only reading and/or writing and makes the files executable by extension). Choosing a Linux or a Windows hosting is exclusively linked to your specific needs, which makes it a consequence of your need:
- If you need to use PHP/MySql (for example Joomla! or WordPress) you can use either one of them;
- If you need an e-commerce or other site in ASP. NET, you are obligated to use Windows hosting.


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This was the 13th consecutive season that the classic has been played at Madison Square Garden, and this year powerhouse programs Duke, Florida, Purdue, and Arizona State were set to square off.
But before the action began, everyone was reminded of why this was a special night and a unique opportunity to remember Valvano's legacy of determination, positivity, and leadership.
Purdue coach Matt Painter expressed how proud he was to be a part of this effort. "Being able to play in the Jimmy V Classic — just the thrill that he had, and the passion that he had, and the fight that he showed. And then battling cancer," Painter said. "And for him to be able to now use this as a platform to raise money and try to hopefully beat cancer someday, it is pretty special."
At every timeout, halftime, and between games, the crowd was inspired by clips of Valvano's famous ESPY Awards speech, stories of brave survivors, and memories of those who died too soon.
The Jimmy V Classic raised awareness and more funds for cancer research, and fans were also treated to some great basketball, which will set the tone for conference play.
Purdue Has Every Right to Dream Big
In the first game, No. 17 Purdue dominated Arizona State, taking down the Sun Devils 97–64. Isaac Haas, the unstoppable 7'2", 290-pound junior center, added 16 points and seven rebounds.
"I think we have very high potential, potentially a championship team," Haas said. "We have to just continue to do what we're told and follow our scouting reports and do our defensive and offensive assignments. If we just stick to those principles, we're going to be just fine. We're going to do great things with this team."
Purdue is a not only a Big Ten team to watch, the Boilermakers are also contenders for the NCAA title with their size and outstanding guard play.
Duke Is Deep and Talented
Later, No. 21 Florida took on No. 5 Duke, with the Blue Devils coming out on top 84–74. This was Duke forward Jayson Tatum's second career college game, and he performed on a national stage in Madison Square Garden. The freshman scored 22 points and pulled down eight defensive rebounds.
Coming into the game, Tatum was looking to show why he was the No. 2 recruit in the nation. He has overcome his injuries and already demonstrated that he is ready for the NBA, showcasing some impressive moves in the paint and in transition.
Jefferson had another double double and a career-high 24 points and 15 rebounds. Kennard had a stellar game, scoring a team-high 29 points. When asked about the great shooting night he had, Kennard said, "It all starts with my teammates. We shared the ball really well. We are a great offensive team with a lot of playmakers. My shot felt good tonight."
Photographs by (from top): Lance King/Getty Images; Max Bonnstetter


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Content: Slate Blackcurrant Watermelon Strawberry Orange Banana Apple Emerald Chocolate Marble
Background: Slate Blackcurrant Watermelon Strawberry Orange Banana Apple Emerald Chocolate Marble
Pattern: Blank Waves Notes Sharp Wood Rockface Leather Honey Vertical Triangles
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Only help if you can be helpfulHey All, A topic has come up of late in the IRC channel in regards to the general feel of the forums and the community that supports them. Things have progressed further than I would have liked with out this being addressed more publicly because I would much rather have snubbed this out sooner rather than later.. but I have been busy. Here is the general rule I would like people to follow: Wheaton's Law "Don't be a dick." Those of you from the IRC channel know that this is the only rule I ask people in there to follow and we generally have a good and lively time chatting about all manner of things. This is basic rule that just about everyone understands and I am going to expand it to the forums from here moving forward. If you can not help people in a helpful and polite manner then I simply ask you to stop. Now I generally take a back seat to moderating the forums as I like to participate in the suggestions forum fairly heavily at times and would rather do so as a forums user than a moderator. But I am also fairly well known for being the person who constantly puts their foot down and so I am stepping up and doing so on here. If you find yourself unable to respond to a message politely then I ask that you do not respond. This mostly focuses on the increasing level of hostility found within the Suggestion forum as well as the Server forum. I do not care if this is the 30th some odd time you have seen someone make the same suggestion. Or even if the new post on an older topic is one entry above the old one. I expect the members of this forum to respond politely to the user, new or old, and point to the older topic if it applies and even go the extra step to suggest they either add in new information or to summarize the outcome of the previous discussion based upon the new post's entry into it. That is what we are here for, that is why I close most topics instead of deleting them, so that they can be found and referenced down the road. The next topic is the slew of derailment attempts I have seen as of late. If you want to have fun and joke around that is what the off topic forum is for and pretty much anything goes there. I do not expect to read a suggestion thread and have to go through 3 pages of image memes people have shot back and forth. Quite simply this is a waste of my time to read and then have to clean up. Now for the summary. I am going to start taking a more active role, especially in policing the suggestion forum, and handing out warn levels to people whom I see doing this. These will be indiscriminate and applied not to just the first person who derails or is impolite on a topic or response, but to everyone whom follows the lead of that person. As I do not like doing things with out giving you all warning this post shall serve as that warning. If you have a desire to bring this topic up with me then I invite you to do so on the IRC channel. Lets raise the level of quality and grow the community. Let us not descend into the quality often found on the minecraft or league of legend forums. There is simply no need for that here. Be passionate about things, just do not be abusive.
Offline ServersRecently I've seen a few server listings showing up on the first page of the Servers forum that have been closed for an extended period of time, but have recently gotten a reply from a new member who didn't realize the server is offline. To help prevent this from happening in the future, it would be greatly appreciated if you could use the report function on the original post of any servers that have been confirmed as offline, so that the topic may be locked. If you are the admin of a server and plan on taking the server offline, please use the report function on the original post of your topic to let the TFC Staff know that the topic should be locked. If you are the admin of a server that has a locked topic, and would wish to bring the server back online, please use the report function on the original post of the topic to let the TFC Staff know that the topic should be unlocked. As always, please remember to follow rule #3 of the servers forum and update your topic title to contain the version of TFC that the server is currently running. You can do so by editing the OP, and then clicking on "Use Full Editor."
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Small Community TFC server now looking for applicants. This is an offline mode server FYI. The server includes but not limited to the following plugins. Towny Authme - For offline mode server to login. (plan on setting up email registration and password reset) WorldGuard Essentials Iconomy Worldedit - WorldGuard What we are looking for. Mature individuals that are interested in development and enjoyment of survival. Anyone that wants to have fun, build huge projects as a team with everyone on the server. Please reply to this post with the following application filled out and/or email me directly at [email protected] IGN: (In Game Name - Whitelist Purposes) Age: How long have you played Minecraft?: How long have you played TFC?: Favorite part of Minecraft? Favorite part of TFC: (if you are new just say so this will not prevent you from joining) Specialization in TFC: (armorsmith? farmer? combat? what do you specialize in. leave blank if you are unsure) A little about yourself: Questions, Suggestions, Comments:


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Dice Fortune Telling is a modern equivalent of 'throwing the bones'. To be precise, knucklebones, translated from the Greek word astragalus. Shamans commonly used knucklebones for divining. Even now, dice as a divination method is called astragalomancy.
Dice as a divination tool has been authenticated, prior to recorded history, as far back as 8,000 years ago, among Hindu's, Tibetan monks, African witch doctors, Egyptians, Romans and of course, gypsies. Fortune telling with dice does not enjoy immense popularity today, but Romany Gypsies are still known for prophesizing with dice.
Experts suggest that ivory or bone dice are quite responsive. However, if you have plastic dice, go ahead and use them.
There is a metaphysical adage to 'divine short', which fits the dice perfectly. Fortune telling with dice is simple and offers succinct answers, with scant need for clarification.
Note: Never divine with dice on Monday or Wednesday. And it is considered bad juju to read the dice for the same person more than three times daily.
Dice revel in 'yes' or 'no' questions. Merely hold a die and state the person's question aloud. Toss the dice. Even numbers indicate 'yes'; odd numbers signify 'no'. Easy-peasy?
With three dice, you can receive insights and guidance about past, present and future events. Have the querent put their attention on a situation, which is happening in their life now. Cast three dice in a manner that lines them up in a row. The die on the left represents the past. An even number reveals circumstances leading to the current event were positive; odd number indicates it was negative.
The center die symbolizes the now. An odd number portends the current condition is static, it won't get worse; an even number suggests a positive final outcome.
Ask the person whose fortune you're telling with dice to state her current situation out loud. Then, throw the dice again, this time adding the number of dots. Like in Numerology, the idea is to always end up with a single digit number.
So, if the dots on the three dice total 12, add 1 + 2 = 3. A total of 10, will equal 1 and so on.
Here are meanings, which have been passed along orally for generations:
Even if you don't have a psychic bone in your body, you can read spots on the dice. It's a splendid party game. Better yet, dice fortune telling is just plain fun.
Wiki - Astragalomancy


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By Noah Smith
One of the strongest orthodoxies in modern economics is being challenged, and there could be big implications for the state of the profession. The new, rebellious ideas might also help us understand why financial bubbles happen.
Economists have realized for a very long time that expectations are crucial to economic behavior. If you expect to lose your job, you might consider holding off on buying a car. If you expect inflation in the future, you might consider buying things now, before prices go up. And so on. The problem is that it's very tricky to make mathematical models that capture how people set their expectations. Do they form them from long-term trends? Do they look at recent changes? Do they make predictions based on theories, and if so, what theories do they use?
Economists wrestled with these questions in the 1960s and 1970s, and came up with a number of different answers, none of them very satisfying. Then, in a pair of papers in 1972 and 1976, University of Chicago economist Robert Lucas constructed a theory that economists would use for decades to come. This was something called rational expectations.
Lucas' idea drew on a technique developed more than a decade before, by an economist named John Muth. Rational expectations means that, on average, people make correct guesses about the future of the economy. Sometimes they make mistakes -- they predict unemployment will be lower than it actually turns out to be, or inflation higher. But they don't make any systematic mistakes. Basically, the theory of rational expectations says that people's mental model of how the economy works is the correct model.
Economists flocked to rational expectations, and pretty soon it had become canon. By the 1990s, almost no one in the mainstream of economics used anything else. Rational expectations is relatively easy to use, and it felt universal. In addition, the idea was very attractive to people who like to think that the economy works smoothly and efficiently. If rational expectations prevail, there is less scope for governments to intervene and improve the functioning of the economy, or for financiers to make money off of the irrationality of the populace.
But there has always been one big problem with rational expectations -- it might just not be right. People really mightmake systematic mistakes in the way they predict the workings of the economy. If economists insist on using an incorrect assumption as the core of their models, it will force them into ever more Byzantine theoretical contortions, as the models repeatedly fail to fit the facts. Cynics would argue that this is exactly what we see happening in macroeconomics, where the prevailing theories have led to precious few correct predictions during the past decade.
Why might rational expectations be wrong? For one thing, people aren't born knowing how the economy functions. They have to learn. That learning process will always leave them with some amount of residual uncertainty about the way things work, which will make them hesitant about things like investing in stocks. Another problem is that getting things exactly right is probably too taxing for the human brain -- we probably use approximations.
Economists have begun tentatively to make models using these and other kinds of small deviations from the rational- expectations orthodoxy. But in the background, a small minority of economists has always suspected that rational expectations might fail in far more dramatic ways. Human psychology might make expectations not just wrong, but dramatically and consistently wrong. This idea was advanced in 2013 by Robin Greenwood and Andrei Shleifer, two leading economists in the behavioral finance field.
Now, a trio of economists from the Federal Reserve Board has gone further, exploring whether human mistakes can explain the housing bubble. In a recent presentation for the National Bureau of Economic Research, Jesse Bricker, Jacob Krimmel, and Claudia Sahm showed some very interesting findings.
The Fed threesome looked at data from the Survey of Consumer Finances, from before and after the housing crash in 2008. They found that more optimistic ZIP codes -- that is, places where people had unrealistically high expectations for their own incomes -- were more likely to overpay for houses in the bubble run-up before 2008. These overoptimistic people also took on more debt, and they were more likely to increase borrowing in response to rising house prices.
This looks an awful lot like a systematic mistake. If you were a hedge-fund manager in 2005 or 2006, and you had access to data showing that people were being too optimistic, you could make a lot of money shorting the housing bubble -- as some hedge-fund managers in fact did. If you were the government in 2005 and 2006, you might have been able to use expectations surveys as a warning sign that told you when to restrict mortgage lending.
In other words, rational expectations might really be wrong. People might make systematic errors, thinking that booms or busts will last forever. If that's the case, then it will require the economics profession to abandon one of its strongest orthodoxies. But the payoff could be big if the profession devises models that successfully explain phenomena like bubbles and crashes.
(c) 2015, Bloomberg View
Noah Smith is an assistant professor of finance at Stony Brook University and a freelance writer for finance and business publications.


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Saturday October 22, 2016
- Can the best school have the worst results?
- Do you have to have been a teacher to be a school leader?
- Do you have to have been a good teacher to be a good school leader?
- Are good teachers born not made?
- It is OK to help a student get an A in a subject even though, in doing so, you kill off that student's love of that subject?
- Is teaching from a script acceptable?
- Should teaching from a script be compulsory if it gets better exam results?
- What are they learning while you're teaching them?
- What is the purpose of education?
- What is the purpose of school?
- If the two answers are different, how do you reconcile that?
- Is there a place for learning technologies in school?
- If you have to choose between rejecting learning technologies because they don't fit the school model or changing the school model, which would you choose?
- Should schools be measured on the quality of the adult, years after they have left school?
- If a student gets a string of top grades but then goes onto have mental health issues at university, has that student been let down by his or her school?
- Do you agree that primary teachers teach children and secondary teachers teach subjects?
- Do your A grade students get their grades because of you or despite you?
- If all my D-grade students get Cs and so do my B-grade students, am I due a performance-related raise?
- Is 'Don't smile till Christmas' sound advice to give a new teacher?
- Can you be an effective teacher if you don't really like children?
- Should schools have a zero-tolerance behaviour policy towards all children?
- Should behaviour policies be differentiated for young people in the way that learning can be?
- Is it the school's job to get young people to think? Or to not think?
- Is it anyone's interests having young people thinking for themselves?
- Could it be argued that the child who does what they are told with the least resistance is the most useful to that school and the least useful to the planet?
- Do you think that teaching is more of a science than an art?
Is failing school the best thing some children can do?
- Should the Rs of reading, writing and arithmetic be replaced, as Sugata Mitra thinks might be useful, with the three Cs of comprehension, communication and calculation?
- Does a chid fail school or does the school fail the child?
- Is a national curriculum better than a local curriculum?
- Should there a global curriculum?
- Is the same amount learned as is taught? If not, can you explain the difference?
- Is 'efficiency' the worst possible goal for education?
- Why do they need a teacher when they've got Google?
Plesae feel free to suggest some responses below or come up with a provocation or two of your own.


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18-hole Championship Course
This course was designed for having fun and putting players' skills to the test. Natural obstacles like trees and reflecting pools make each hole different from the next and constantly stimulate new strategies. Plus the altitude difference throughout the course requires a fair amount of stamina.
9 Executive Holes
The first hole may be the most famous and is probably the most difficult par 3 in Italy. But the others also require a high degree of experience as they are quite narrow and insidious due to the sand pits positioned in the greens.
Foot Golf
This exciting new discipline brings together the elegance of golf and a passion for soccer, creating such a winning combination that athletes of all ages will be hooked.
The basic rules are the same as those of golf, but a size 5 soccer ball and holes with a 50 cm diameter are used, rigorously dug into rough areas so as to preserve the golf fields. The game is played in bermuda shorts or long pants, long socks, polo, and tennis or soccer shoes (no 11-player soccer cleats). Each player is responsible for bringing his or her own ball to the game (size 5 for 11- player soccer).
For more information please contact the administrative office at +39 0143 3422 64.


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Partnerships Development Internship, Mass Challenge
- Provided by Masa Israel Elite Internships
Mass Challenge seeks an intern to work with the partnerships team to research prospective partners, carry-out administrative tasks related to managing relationships with current partners, and assist with programs and events related to business development.
Partnerships is essential to fundraising and community relations at MassChallenge. As a Partnerships Intern, you will be directly involved in all aspects of partnership development and service. You will work with the partnerships team to research prospective partners, carry-out administrative tasks related to managing relationships with current partners, and assist with programs and events related to business development for MassChallenge.
MassChallenge is seeking highly motivated interns passionate about working with early stage startups. Applicants should have a strong work ethic and a lot of enthusiasm for developing their skills and their career in the entrepreneurial ecosystem.
What we look for:
-Excellent customer service skills
-Strong written and verbal communication skills, ideally in both Hebrew and English
-Ability to prioritize and execute multiple projects efficiently and simultaneously
-Ability to maintain poise and composure in a fast-paced environment
-Commitment to continuous learning
-Function-area specific education and/or skills are desirable, particularly where noted in the above descriptions
-Goal-oriented and self-motivated; hungry for success
-Dedication to and enthusiasm for our mission of "helping entrepreneurs win!"
MassChallenge Inc., a U.S.-based startup accelerator with existing programs in Boston and the United Kingdom, is expanding its operations in Israel and launching a full startup accelerator serving both the Israeli and international entrepreneurial communities.
Click here to learn more about this internshipApply Now
Want to keep exploring?
- Explore other internships in: High-Tech/Start-Ups, Jerusalem, Masa Israel Elite Internships
- Check out all of our newest featured internships
Recommend or share an internship with a friend:


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After losing a heartbreaker to Japan four years ago in Germany, the U.S. side looks to avenge their penalty shootout defeat and reclaim the #1 world ranking in today's World Cup Final.
The United States and Japan share a history of competition. World War II, Toyota vs Chevy, sushi vs burgers, and now women's soccer, as the two nations meet for a third consecutive finale at a major tournament.
The Japanese team, known as the Nadeshiko, took the fútbol world by storm at the 2011 World Cup. By finishing third in the 2010 Women's Asia Cup, they barely snuck into the competition. Having never previously placed in a World Cup, they played as afterthoughts. A second-place finish in the group stage netted the Nadeshiko a quarterfinal showdown with Germany, a test they passed with a 108th minute stunner in front of a shocked German crowd. Two matches later, they became world champions, at the expense of a U.S. team looking for its third title.
A year later, the Japanese and Americans met again at the London Olympics. The U.S. side, on the back of two Carli Lloyd goals, triumphed 2-1 to earn the gold medal.
So, while the upcoming finale appears as a revenge game, it can also be viewed as a tiebreaker, as the World Cup and Olympics carry an equal match-factor of four by the World Rankings Calculator. The real question now becomes, who will come out on top this time around.
On paper, the two sides have comparable tournament resumes. Both enter the finals undefeated, though the United States holds the lone draw from a scoreless finish with Sweden during group play. Both teams boast nine goals, though the Japanese allowed three to America's one.
Both teams needed a bit of luck to survive their semifinal encounters. The U.S. advanced by benefit of a missed penalty shot and being awarded a controversial one of their own. Japan's showdown with England seemed destined for extra time until British defender Laura Bassett inadvertently found the back of her own net with a clearance attempt in stoppage time.
Despite the similarities, the Americans enter the match an overwhelming 67% favorite, according to FiveThirtyEight's WSPI. It appears that the computer prefers America's prolific defense, which hasn't allowed a goal in 513 minutes, over Japan's technical prowess. The Nadeshiko complete 80% of their passes, six percent more than their counterparts, displaying an incredible ability to dictate play and suffocate the life out of opponents.
Several key factors tip the scale in favor of the Americans. The U.S. fields an elite goaltender in Hope Solo while all three Japanese keepers saw action, as starter Ayumi Kaihori experienced some shaky moments early in the tournament. The Americans can also expect a majority of the 50,000+ folks in attendance to support the U.S. side, seeing as Vancouver sits literally just north of the American border.
Regardless, we can anticipate an electrifying, hard-fought battle this Sunday. After all, the WSPI gave Germany a 57% chance to beat the U.S. in the semi-finals, proving that when game day arrives, anything can happen.


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|Skinfood Peach Sake Silky Finish Powder
|Skinfood Peach Sake Silky Finish Powder
So what do I like about it?
- the packaging is very nice
- smells lovely
- excellent for oil control
- flawless finish
- makesmy face soo smooth to touch
|Skinfood Peach Sake Silky Finish Powder
- I find it hard to apply it correctly. If you use too much it turns very cakey. The puff picks up too much product in the centre of the puff and I haven't figured out the way of sheering this out before application. The best way I found so far is to dip my ELF kabuki brush into the sifter (it fills the entire space) turn the box upside down, then back, then swirl the brush inside and then gently pat it on my face.
- not suitable for flash photography
- the thing which bothers me is that there was very little product in the box (see picture below). The packaging wasn't sealed when it arrived and particles of the powder were floating here and there. I buy my Skinfood products from my trusted E-bay seller and actually I have no reason to suspect him of stealing some powder from me. Why would he do that? There's no way of trading this powder without the packaging! I suppose the parcel had been opened by the customs (perhaps I'd ordered heroin from Korea, who knows) and they simply spilled half of it!
|can you see how little product there is?
Disclaimer: I bought the product myself for my personal use and I am not affiliated with any company. I am not paid to do this review and everything I said here is my genuine opinion.


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Note from Dadmissions:
Yep, I had one of those weird out of parent moments where your kid says something so poignant that it stops you dead and then you sit there and ponder life's questions while you feel a little like throwing up. It happened on the playground. My daughter actually said the first three lines. I then started panicking about the rest...
Daddy won't you watch me swing
Look at me daddy how high I can go
Daddy watch me fly
It happens in an instant
From playgrounds and preschools
To report cards, caps, and gowns
Daddy won't you watch me graduate
Look at me daddy with my diploma
Daddy watch me fly
The days go by and suddenly years
From colleges and first kisses
To apartments, cars, and jobs
Daddy won't you walk me down the aisle
Look at me daddy your daughter a bride
Daddy watch me fly
Time stretches into new beginnings
From parents becoming grandparents
To a daughter becoming a mother
Daddy won't you watch me grow up
Look at me daddy now I'm a mom
Daddy watch me fly
Life's lessons become your legacy
From that very first playground trip
Cherish every hug and kiss
Daddy I know you'll always be there
Look at me daddy I'll never forget
Daddy watch me fly
Find me on Facebook at Dadmissionsthebook


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Ratna Ling residential volunteers work in one of three organizations on our property:
- Ratna Ling Retreat Center
- Yeshe De Text Preservation Project
- Dharma Publishing
Wherever the work placement, our volunteers learn valuable job and life skills. Each organization teaches us how to put Buddhist principles and teachings into practice. They also all present great opportunities for obtaining job training in a variety of resume building work skills.Ratna Ling volunteers study and practice Skillful Means as a practical guide for turning work into "work practice"; using work as an opportunity to train our minds and gain deeper insights. As part of the Ratna Ling Work Study program, students meet once a week after work to explore the book in which these teachings are given: Skillful Means . Practicing throughout the week, each individual is given countless opportunities during their regular work day to cultivate greater self-knowledge and use the insight and experience of their practice to make positive changes in their work and life We welcome new volunteers for all three organizations all year round!


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HTC has launched a new phone which will serve the low range market, this is a nice strategy from HTC as the upper market is already covered by its super phone HTC One and now lower end segment will also be covered by this market leader. HTC Desire 200 is small but powerful as this phone will run on Android ICS 4.0 with powerful processor. Phone light but performance is really heavy and remarkable with the help of processor and RAM configuration. Display size is very handy, which means can be operated with one hand easily. 5MP camera is another added advantage which will capture good images and videos. For audio enhancement this phone is powered with Beats Audio which gives superior output as well. For longer operation on surfing, playing and working will be handled by 1230mAH battery. Connectivity options provided by the handset are GPRS, EDGE, WLAN, Wi-Fi 802.11 and Bluetooth V4.0 which gives the phone overall a good rating.
HTC has also launched Sync Manager for this phone as you will work, create, click images or get attached to email server so to create backup of your other important stuff on to your computer, so that in future if you need to restore your data then you can easily restore with the help of PC suite. To download the Sync manager all you need to do is just click to the link below and get it installed on your computer in no time depend upon your internet connection.
HTC Desire 200 Specification:
- Display- 3.5 inches Capacitive touchscreen
- Resolution- 320 x 480 pixels (~165 ppi pixel density)
- Sensors a�� Accelerometer, proximity
- CPU- 1 GHz
- Storage- 4 GB internal memory, microSD, up to 32 GB
- Rear Camera- 5 megapixels
- Front Camera- VGA
- OS- Android OS, v4.0 (Ice Cream Sandwich)
HTC Desire 200 Dual PC suite System requirements:
- CPU: Intel Pentium 4 2.4 GHz or higher
- Ram: 512 MB
- OS: Windows XP SP3 or Higher
- HTC Desire 200 Dual pc suite and Download Links:
HTC Desire 200A�PC Suite download:
- USB Drivers download
- PC Suite


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The video for "Runaway," the new single from power-pop long-timers Imperial Teen, focuses on a party where people wear paper Imperial Teen masks and try on each other's outfits. Fun party! The video itself is a vivid, pastel-colored affair, and we need one of those every once in a while. Andrew G. Mueller directs. Watch it below.
(via Spin)
Imperial Teen's new album Feel The Sound is out now on Merge; stream it here.


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Karen Karch is making her debut at COUTURE this year in the Next Wave salon, yet she's no stranger to design. A 25 year veteran of jewelry design, she's also been on the front line working with clients, first in her NoLita boutique and currently in her Gramercy Park area store, since 1996. Her jewelry is edgy and distinctive, containing seemingly contradictory qualities, much like her personal style. I've been friendly with Karen for years and was thrilled when I learned she'd be joining us at COUTURE this year, so we took a little time out of our mutually hectic schedules to connect over lunch and talk shop, and dig a little deeper into some of Karen's design influences.
COUTURE: For as long as I've known you, you've been very interested in fashion; who are some of the designers you admire?
KK: I love Rick Owns, Alexander McQueen, Haider Ackermann and Marc Jacobs. I've loved Nicholas Ghesquier since he was at Balenciaga and now that he's at Luis Vuitton, I'm interested in Luis Vuitton! I'm also really into Greg Lauren, who is a nephew of Ralph Lauren; he's a painter and creates clothing that is re-worked army surplus, or a white shirt with "Beauty in Imperfection" written in marker. He has a very unisex sensibility.
COUTURE: Are any of these sensibilities influencing your designs in any way?
KK: Men's jewelry has been a lot more on my mind these days, so I'm looking to fashion for inspiration. Men have responded well to the textures in my jewelry, they like that they can tell that somebody made it. I have dog tags already, and I'm exploring more ambi-sexual, unisex pieces, even doing similar things that I do for women, just with different proportions.
COUTURE: What else about fashion influences you?
KK: The thing I find most influential and inspiring about fashion is the runway! That's when these designers show this balls out creativity! It really challenges my bravery and forces me out of my comfort zone. Working with clients one-on-one I can sometimes fall in to the trap of constantly asking the question, "Can this sell?" But I realize that my clients want to see that way out there creativity! They may not want to buy that big, statement piece, but it can inspire them and they'll possibly be drawn to the more every day pieces that come out of the bigger picture piece.
COUTURE: Where did you grow up? Did that influence you in any way in your life and/or work?
KK: I was born in Syracuse and we moved to El Paso when I was 10. While I really missed the seasons at first, I developed an intense love of the desert and now have property in New Mexico, near El Paso. We are currently working on designing a house to initially use as a vacation home, then later a place to spend half the year, and eventually "retire."


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British pop star Jessie J has undergone a second round of surgery to treat her mystery condition.
The Price Tag hitmaker announced last week (ends28Jun15) that she was in hospital recovering from an operation, but would not reveal the nature of her surgery or illness.
She cancelled upcoming gigs in England, Belgium and Denmark as she took longer than expected to get better, and she has now revealed she has undergone another procedure.
The singer, who suffered an irregular heartbeat and seizures in her youth, writes on Instagram.com, "Just had a second surgery... Im not any better but everyday working towards it ... I love and trust the people around me enough to face my fears of operations even if I need a little push sometimes.
"As I said before I don't want to and won't be talking about what's wrong and what's happened... I'm telling you how I am because some people ask... And with me having to cancel some shows it's fair to those asking where I am that you know I'm in hospital and I haven't just disappeared... God bless you all sending love support prayers and well wishes."